At dinner tonight, the conversation took a more serious turn when we heard the news about a girl we used to work with, whose husband of two years had suddenly decided he wants a divorce. We were all shocked, as we genuinely thought they had the perfect relationship; both attractive, working in media, just bought a £700,000 pad in West London, always going on exotic trips away…but we think he must have had some kind of crisis. He’s 34 and, while she’s a few years younger, he’s obviously hit a wall.
It totally depresses me that these men in their early to mid 30s are acting like total and utter children. What happens to them? Do they suddenly wake up one morning thinking, ‘F**k, I’m the age my Dad was when he had me but inside I still feel like a little boy and can’t possibly take on the responsibility for a relationship/child/my whole life’ and then just try and sabotage it all? Why do they take it out on the women who love them, too?
Which leads me on to this feature I read in The Times a few weeks ago that I have been semi-obsessed with, by a 35 year old writer called Laura Nolan. Read it and weep:
http://women.timesonline.co.uk/tol/life_and_style/women/article3283690.ece
Her basic premise is that men in their 30s in London are having some kind of regression, and, for whatever reasons, can’t seem to cope with the responsibilities of having mature, adult relationships with girls their own age, and are turning to younger ones because…well, who knows? Because they won’t feel so intellectually challenged? Because all they want is someone who looks up to them? Because they believe that a younger woman will be more fertile and they’ll stand more chance of having a child with her, hence why they’re so dismissive of women in their mid-30s as potential partners?
I can’t help but feel they’re on a hiding to nothing anyway. They will have absolutely nothing in common with a younger woman, won’t have the energy to keep up with their lifestyle, and if they think a 26 year old is going to sprout healthy, vigorous sprogs for them, they’ll have a long, long wait. Any 20something who lives in/moves to London does so for one main reason: their career. And they won’t even be thinking about babies until they’re at least 33.
As you can tell, I’ve been giving this quite some thought. But if I give it too much, I’ll just end up utterly depressed. So I’ll probably go back to fantasising about raclette before I go to bed, and hope it doesn’t give me nightmares.
